


let me

by bluebismuth



Series: Jonelias Week Prompts [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, JonElias Week 2020, M/M, Manipulation, Peeping, Unhealthy Relationships, takes place after MAG85
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebismuth/pseuds/bluebismuth
Summary: Elias insists that Jon come to his house.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Jonelias Week Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893688
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41
Collections: Jonelias Week 2020





	let me

**Author's Note:**

> day 2 fill for jonelias week! (manipulation + caretaking)

“Alright, well.” Georgie’s keys jingle in her hand as she puts them in her purse. “Off on another date. Hopefully this one works out better than last time.”

“Was the Hungarian food worth it?”

“Just barely,” she says, laughing halfheartedly. “None this time, but maybe if we go on more dates, I can convince her.” Georgie opens the door, but she pauses. “Oh, right.” She turns back to Jon. “You’ve got to eat something tonight, okay? I remember how much you complained this morning because your stomach was hurting.”

He sighs, a smile on his face as he nods. “Yes, Georgie, I know. I’ll try to remember.”

“Text me once you’ve made something. Or I’ll remind you at nine instead.”

“Alright...thank you.”

“Just looking out for you. Someone has to.” With a wave and exchanged goodbyes, Georgie leaves and closes the door behind her.

Jon sighs and leans his head back against the couch, which leads to the Admiral flicking his tail in front of his face. “Ahh, hi. Suppose I should feed you too, hm?” The Admiral meows, prompting Jon to get up and walk to the kitchen with him hot on his heels.

He finds the remaining half of a can of cat food in the fridge, and Jon scoops and spreads it out onto a plate before placing it on the ground. The Admiral practically zooms over and starts eating, and Jon looks down at him fondly as he washes off the spoon. 

Once that’s out of the way, he roots through the fridge and freezer, looking for something he can eat himself. Now that he’s actually up, he feels more inclined to actually _make_ something instead of just throwing something in the microwave.

Before he can actually decide, though, he hears a knock at the door. For a second, Jon thinks it’s Georgie coming back, realizing that she’s forgotten something, but...she took her keys with her. She wouldn’t need to wait for him to open the door.

More cautious now, he approaches the door and looks through the peephole. To his surprise, Elias is there, waiting expectantly. Why is _he_ here? Oh, Christ, is he going to be taken to the police? How did Elias even know where he was? God, if Georgie knows his—well, former—boss knows where she lives, she is _not_ going to be happy.

Still...something tells him Elias isn’t going to leave. He can probably see that the lights are on through the curtains. Steeling himself, Jon slides the chain on the door so it’ll only open a little, and opens the door a crack. “What are you _doing_ here?”

“Can’t a man check in with his employee while he’s being pursued under murder charges?”

Jon splutters, and he considers shutting the door on Elias, but he knows he’ll stay there. “I’m serious. Are you here to...to turn me in?”

“Oh, goodness no,” Elias replies. “I believe that you didn’t kill that poor old man. Especially so brutally.” He smiles. “Honestly, if anyone thinks you could lift a metal pipe that big and use it well enough to beat him to death, they’re lying to themselves.”

“Um. Thanks?” It was definitely an insult, but...at least Elias wasn’t going to drag him to the nearest police station.

“You seem quite nervous, Jon. I can imagine trying to hide from the police would do that to you. Are you _sure_ you’re comfortable in this person’s flat?”

_“Yes.”_ Jon grits his teeth. 

“Truly, a sign of a man at peace.” For all his issues with detecting tone, even Jon can hear the sarcasm dripping from Elias’s words. “I mean it, Jon. Why don’t you come over to my house? I think you could do with a good meal, maybe a hot bath, to relax.”

God, is he _seriously_ propositioning Jon like this? What if this is a trap? “Are...are you making me stay overnight?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Elias winks, and it makes Jon shudder. “If you want to be taken home, I’ll make sure you’re driven back here before midnight.”

This is _not good._ This is probably a trap. He can _feel_ Elias’s gaze on him, even though he can only see half his face. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice, Jon? I’d imagine you don’t exactly have the finest pickings, especially when you don’t have the energy to _really_ make a meal.” Jon can feel Elias put a hand on the door, but he doesn’t push on it. “Let me cook for you, Jon. Most people like myself would usually just have a chef of their own, but I find cooking intrinsically rewarding. Even more so when I get to share it with someone.” His fingers wrap around the edge of the door. “I doubt that flat has room for a proper bathtub, much less any accessories to make it more calming. Don’t you think you could use a break, especially now?”

The worst part about Elias’s words is that they’re not wrong. Jon _wants_ to close the door on him, knows that it’s probably the best thing to do, but...he can’t help but feel like he’d be missing out.

If Elias turned out to be a serial killer or something, he can think of ways to defend himself. “...Fine,” Jon finally says, hanging his head. “Just. Give me a bit, okay?”

“Of course, Jon.” He moves his hand away so Jon can close the door.

A rational person probably would’ve called the building’s security, or at the very least, texted Georgie to tell her what was going on. Jon is not a rational person.

_[18:42] Jon: Georgie, I’m going to head out and get something from Sainsburys._

Hopefully, that’ll be enough for her. Jon sighs, sealing his fate as he gets his shoes on and grabs his coat. He grabs his spare key (honestly, it’s a wonder Georgie still kept it around) and slips the chain off of the door to open it.

“Come with me,” Elias says, outstretching a hand. “My driver’s parked the car just by the ground floor.”

_Of course he has his own driver._ Jon doesn’t take his hand, but he shuts the lights off and locks the door behind him before following Elias.

— — —

As Jon had expected, Elias is one of those upper class people that loves minimalism a little _too_ much. His house almost feels like it’s being shown off for potential buyers, and not a place that someone actually lives in. Jon slips his shoes off once they’re inside, and before he can take his coat off, Elias is taking it off for him and hanging it off of his arm. “I’ll start making dinner, Jon. Do you eat meat?”

“U-uh, yes?” Jon sighs. He has no reason to be paranoid over _this;_ he’s just checking if he needs to make something vegetarian instead. 

“Alright. I hope you’re partial to lamb, then.” Elias takes his and Jon’s coat over to a closet by the kitchen and hangs them up in there. “The bathroom is on the second floor, first door on the left.”

“Right…” Jon glances back at Elias again before he walks up the stairs.

The bathroom is just as minimalist as the rest of his house, white with some occasional black, probably to “spice things up.” The tub is fairly large, and he guesses there’s room for two people in there. He shudders and moves on, taking off his clothes and deliberately not looking in the mirror.

On the edge of the tub, Jon notices a small caddy filled with bath bombs and salts and little candles. He bites the inside of his cheek. Steeling himself, he cracks the door open just so he can poke his head through. “Elias?” He calls.

“Yes, is there something wrong?”

“Um. Can I use anything in the caddy by the tub?”

“You’re more than welcome to, Jon.”

Jon sighs in relief and closes the door again. He’s never really been able to _have_ a bath in his apartment, and Georgie wasn’t one for fancying up hers, so at least now he has a chance to see what all the fuss is about.

After filling the tub up with water, he grabs a blue and gold bomb and tosses it in, and he can’t help but watch in fascination as the deep blue and gold flecks spread out across the water. He’s not good at detecting specific smells, and he didn’t read the label, but it smells fresh and it calms his nerves a little. After knocking it around for a bit until it’s all dissolved, Jon gets in the water and sighs, leaning his head back onto the rim of the tub. If he wasn’t terrified of drowning, maybe he could fall asleep here.

He’s not sure how much time passes while his mind drifts and he lulls himself into safety with the nice scents and the warm water, but the sound of a door opening snaps him right out of it.

_“Jesus,_ Elias!” Jon panics and snatches a towel off of a nearby rack to hide behind. Even if the top of his chest is the lowest part of him visible, it makes him feel better. “G-get out! You _knew_ I was in here!”

“Apologies, Jon. I figured you were dressed, considering the door was unlocked.” 

Oh _Christ,_ he must’ve forgotten that after he poked his head out earlier. “At least _knock!”_ He cuts himself off before he can say “next time,” because he doubts there’s going to be a next time for this.

“Well, it _is_ my house,” Elias counters, before sighing. “Fine. I’ll keep it in mind. Dinner’s almost ready, so if you’ll get out of the tub and get dressed again, I would appreciate it.” 

Once Elias closes the door again, Jon tosses the towel down and huffs. Whatever. The water’s gotten lukewarm anyway.

Once he’s drained the tub and dried and dressed himself, Jon makes his way down the stairs, his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched. When he does look up, he can see Elias setting the table for both of them, and he can smell the food before he even reaches the bottom. Doesn’t smell like he used any real spices, but hopefully he has enough sense to use salt.

“I do hope you like it,” Elias says when Jon reaches the dining room. He’s setting the roasted lamb down in the middle of the table, among a pot of mashed potatoes and some roasted carrots. Before he can sit down, though, Elias pulls out one of the chairs and gestures for him to sit down. When he does, Elias scoots the chair in. “Let me.” He takes the plate in front of Jon and carves off a couple pieces of the lamb to put on it, along with scooping out some of the potatoes and carrots before placing the plate back in front of Jon. It’s only after he’s put some food on his own plate that Elias sighs. “Seems I’ve forgotten drinks. You’re not opposed to alcohol, right?”

Jon pales, but he knows his tolerance is getting better. “Just...just a little bit. I don’t feel like getting drunk tonight.”

“Of course.” Elias walks away and comes back a moment later with an expensive looking bottle of red wine. He pours Jon’s glass about a third full, and gives himself a half full one before he corks it. “Now that we’re all settled...tell me, Jon, how has living on the run been for you?”

“What do you think?” Jon sighs, cutting off a piece of the lamb and eating it. It’s not _bad_ —at least he cooked it all the way through—but the garlic Elias put on it is faint, and the rosemary might as well be a garnish. At least it’s proper food.

Elias gives him a sigh of his own. “Jon, all I’m trying to do is have a conversation with you.”

“Sorry that I’m not exactly keen to talk to the man who walked in on me in the bath.”

“You really should’ve checked to make sure you locked the door before you got back in.”

Jon glares at him, and it takes all his willpower to not throw the untouched wine glass in his face. He doesn’t want to keep up the staring contest, so he just goes back to his food. 

“I wasn’t lying about not turning you in to the police, Jon.” Elias tries, but Jon stays silent. “But...maybe you could help me figure out who _did_ kill that man.”

“I don’t care.”

“You _don’t care_ about a potential killer among your employees?” He asks, tilting his head. “Really, Jon. That could get your throat slit one day.”

“I already went through this with that _thing_ that isn’t Sasha.”

“Do you really think the threat has been eliminated? After such a gruesome scene in your office?” Even though he’s not looking at him, Jon can feel Elias’s gaze on him again as he swirls his wine in the glass. “I think that monster would’ve just torn him to shreds. It wouldn’t have bothered with weapons. And it’s not like the general public has access to the archives, much less _your_ office…”

_“What_ are you implying?”

“Honestly, Jon, I can’t spoon feed you the answers. Who would I be, to accuse someone of murder with circumstantial evidence?”

Despite Elias’s words, it makes Jon...think. His relationship with his employees hasn’t exactly been stable lately, and Leitner’s murder likely didn’t make things any better. Jon sighs. He wouldn’t be surprised if they at least suspected him of murder. And like Elias said, it was in his office…

At first, Jon figured that Martin wouldn’t accuse him of something like that, but...he hadn’t exactly been the nicest to him. He’d probably listened to the tapes and come across insults hurled towards him behind his back, and knowing that his own boss thought less of him, well. Jon wasn’t entirely sure of Martin’s true nature, but he wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to get rid of him somehow, and what better way to do that than frame him as the murderer?

And Tim...oh god, Tim, he’d fucked up _so bad_ with Tim. He’d be surprised if he was no longer angry with him after he’d stalked him and watched his house. If Martin wanted to get rid of him, Tim would want to make sure he never saw his face again. 

As he thinks, Jon slowly loses his appetite. He can only get down a few more bites of mashed potatoes, and eventually, he lets his fork fall and clatter on the plate.

“I know it’s hard to realize people you thought were your friends might have it out for you,” Elias starts, looking over at Jon as he cuts out a piece of lamb. “It’s...a difficult thing to come to terms with. But unfortunately, this world isn’t very fair.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t have friends?”

“Of course not, Jon, goodness.” Elias holds up a hand. “But in tumultuous situations like this, you should remember that the only person who has your best interests in mind is yourself. Maybe others will tell you differently, that they do care about you, but they’re either lying, or they don’t _really_ know you. And you shouldn’t get to the point where someone really knows about you, Jon. All they’ll know is how to hurt you later.”

Jon drops his arms to his sides, looking blankly at his food. He definitely wasn’t hungry anymore.

“I suppose it is getting late.” Elias stands up. “Would you like me to put the rest of this in some Tupperware for you to take home? I would hate for all of this to go to waste.” Jon nods, although it’s more out of numbness than anything. He feels Elias pat his shoulder as he walks out of the dining room and returns with a lid and container, and he apparently takes the liberty of scooping his food in. “Poor thing,” he muses. “Realizing a betrayal is difficult. Make sure you get some good rest tonight.” Once he’s done, he places the container into Jon’s lap. “I’ll stay here, but I’ll make sure my driver gets you back home.”

Jon nods. It’s all he can physically do at the moment. Elias has to help him out of the chair and get him ready to go home, to walk him to the car and get him inside.

“I’ll see you when you’re able to come back to work, Jon.”

Jon watches London pass by his window, the remnants of his meal cooling in his lap. It takes all of his strength just to put it in the back of the fridge, hoping Georgie won’t notice, before he crashes on the couch.


End file.
